A Knight in NotSoShiny Armor
by Mamberz987
Summary: AU. SxJ. Prince Joey is sent to the woods to become more of a prince but is attacked by robbers. Prince Seto finds him and nurses him back to health. Can the two fall in love when their countries are on the brink of war and Joey has amnesia? Shounen ai.
1. Prologue: Prince Joey

Hello, hello! This is my newest, latest story that I'll be working on while I also continue to write One Long Week. I find I'm more diligent if I multi-task. So I'll do my best to update on a daily basis.

**Summary**: AU. Joey is a prince who isn't very, well, princely. His father, King of Arvata, sends him away on a hunting trip to become more of a noble, but his party is attacked by robbers. Seto, prince of the neighboring country Zarian, which is on the brink of war, finds the fallen blonde and nurses him back to health. When Joey comes up with amnesia, can the two fall in love, or will politics and Joey's country come between them?

**Warning**: This, same as nearly all my stories, is about Joey and Seto falling in love. If you have a problem with that, please press the back button, and do not trouble yourself with reading this.

**Prologue

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He paced nervously in his bed chambers. He knew he was in for it. Again. Back and forth he walked, wondering what his father would have to say this time. He tried to ignore the lectures, the disappointment in his father's voice, but he couldn't help but care. Just like he couldn't help but get into trouble. He probably should have been used to it by now; trouble and mischief were not exactly new concepts to him. _On the contrary_, he thought to himself with an amused half-grin.

He slapped a hand to his forehead. Even with the nervous butterflies fluttering through his stomach, he still managed to make jokes. _Which is probably why I have such a knack for trouble._ Maybe he would make a better court jester. If he'd had any siblings to take his place, he certainly would try to talk his father into letting him do such a thing. But alas, he did not. He sighed again, lowering his big, amber eyes to the ground. No. He had no choice. He had large shoes to fill when he would eventually take his father's place.

After all, there are no larger shoes when your father is the King.

He wearily flopped down on his bed, savoring the feel of the velvety maroon cushions that covered the down mattress. He vaguely wondered how his father would punish him this time. His father was kind and just, but like any other dad, he could be scary when he was angry. Which, he imagined, he was way beyond. He had promised to stay out of trouble for at least a week. He counted back. It had been three and a half days. So he made it half way. He hoped he might get points for trying. But he doubted it.

He had never been thrown in the dungeon before, and he hoped he would have to make it a first. He loved his spacious chambers, the way the wind blew in through his window, rippling the curtains, which were made from the same soft material as his sheets. The sun would shine on his face, highlighting his golden hair at the perfect time to wake up in the morning. The garden was thirty feet below him, but he could still smell the morning glories blossoming with the dawning sun. It really was the best way to start his day.

In the middle of him noting all the things about his room he appreciated, the heavy bronze door opened, and his father stormed in the room, his cloak thrashing behind him, fury radiating off his person like a violent hurricane. The poor boy cringed and braced himself for the worst.

"Joseph, I have had it with you!" his father bellowed, his face slowly turning red.

"Dad, I told you, it's Joey, and I can explain—" the blonde began, but the King cut him off, leaving no room for the young prince to defend himself.

"You will go by your given name, Joseph. You are seventeen years of age. You reached adulthood a year ago, yet you insist on continuing to act like a child! Every time a member of the court approaches me, I cringe because more often than not, it is to inform me that you have played some horrendous prank on an unsuspecting maid," the King continued on, but was interrupted by a derisive snort coming from his son.

Seeing his father's face begin to turn from red to purple, he quickly tried to stop the impending tide of fury. "I'm sorry, but Susan is so easy to pick on. She never notices my traps until she's already walked into them! And it's not like I ever do anything harmful. So her hair will be green until she gets her next washing, big deal!" And he only did it because she was his favorite; she had practically raised him from when he was an infant. Besides, he had no desire to grow up. It sounded quite boring.

Apparently, this was definitely not on the list of right things to say. His father was speechless for just a moment, before all of his words began spewing out at once. Joey caught some phrases, such as "no remorse," "elderly woman," and "teach you a lesson." The young blonde's ears picked up the last part of the statement. He sighed. The conversation really hadn't been going well; he might as well pack his bags and head for the dungeon now. He hung his head dejectedly, his blonde locks covering his eyes.

The King took a slow, calming breath. "I have been very disappointed in your behavior lately, Joseph. Not only are you constantly causing trouble around the castle, but your tutors have informed me that you have been skipping your lessons, and when you do decide to attend, you are rude and make obnoxious comments."

Joey opened his mouth to tell his father that he thought his tutors were stuffy old bags who only treated him with condescension. However, he was cut off before he could begin by his father raising a large hand to make a 'stop' motion. Joey resentfully shut his mouth.

"Son," his father began, suddenly sounding very tired. Joey noticed some of his hairs were turning a silvery grey. "You need to learn regality. You need to learn constraint, and strength. You do not act like the prince you are. I will not be around forever, and I need you to be ready to take my place when I am gone. I have already made arrangements for you. I am sending you to go on a hunting party to the Thristarian Woods. It will last for a couple of weeks, and I will send some of my soldiers to accompany and protect you. With any bit of luck, you'll come back as more of a man than you are right now."

Joey's jaw dropped open. The Thristarian Woods? "But Dad—I mean, Father," he added at the stern glare he received, "the Woods are right in the middle of the border between us and the country, Zarian. Last time I attending History Lesson, we're on the brink of war with them. If they hear that the Prince of Arvata is alone in there, it would create all sorts of opportunities for attacks on not only my hunting party, but on the kingdom as well."

The King clasped a large hand on the blonde's bony shoulder. "Then only us and the guards will know." He smiled cunningly.

Joey's eyes grew wide, seeing that he was indeed serious, and there was no way to escape.

_Leave the castle? I think I'd prefer the dungeon.

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Okay, that's the prologue for this story. I promise Seto will be appearing soon, so have no fear! Please review and tell me if you like the story at all. Reviews bring updates!

Much love!


	2. Prologue: Prince Seto

Oh wow, thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm glad you guys are liking it so far. You all are the best. So, when I posted the last chapter, the prologue was all I had. I'm not very good at the whole planning-out-my-stories kind of thing. I tend to just wing it. And I want this to have a good plot, so I'm trying to plan ahead now. So if I take a little longer than expected to update, I'm really sorry! –humbly bows-

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters here.

**Warning**: This story will contain the pairing, Joey and Seto. If that bothers or offends you, please don't trouble yourself with reading this.

**Prologue-Prince Seto**

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He angrily paced the length of the room, the soles of his boots clacking harshly against the cool marble tile beneath his feet. Cold blue eyes narrowed in self-frustration. Guilt was eating away at him. He hadn't meant to get the gardener thrown into the dungeon. He was actually fond of the old man. If only his father hadn't been there at that exact moment.

The tall teen walked up to the stone wall of his bed chambers and hit the wall with a balled-up fist. He stared angrily at the floor, chestnut bangs covering his weary eyes. He knew the gardener hadn't been watching where he was going. Neither had he. The two had collided in one of the halls. The poor old man had been carrying a large potted plant, hence the obstruction of his sight, and the young prince had been trying to study a document on political prowess, a subject that required a lot of concentration, while hurrying to his politics lesson. It was an unlucky coincidence that the two had chanced to run into each other at the same moment that his father, the King of Zarian, had entered the corridor. The plant the gardener had been carrying fell to the floor with a loud, resounding crash.

Normally Prince Seto would have bent down to gently stop the old man from stuttering any more apologies. He would have personally helped to clean up the soil from the floor, and told the gardener to not worry, and continue on with his day, and simply would have ordered another plant from the kingdom's bazaar. At least, he would like to think he would have done all this. There was a time when he had a large, innocent heart and always put others before himself.

That was before his father had taken to training him for his future status of ruler of the entire country.

He knew his father had once been a very kind, gentle being. However, after his mother had passed away during the plague when he was young, the King's heart began to grow stonier with each passing day. A few surrounding countries tried to take advantage of the emotional King's state of being, and Zarian was soon swarmed with soldiers trying to annex the land into their own. The King quickly decided that emotion was a weakness, and his heart grew cold. He crushed the incoming assaults with deadly force and precision, and no mercy. Zarian had been a much smaller country then, but with each nation that fell before his power, their land engulfed all surrounding countries. All that was left was Arvata, a country whose power equaled that of Zarian.

Seto had been eight by the time his father had completely transformed into an unfeeling shell of a man. Until recently, the young prince had managed to repel the influence of the icy King. Now the King had decided to rid the eighteen-year-old heir of his emotional 'weakness' in preparation for his coronation and eventual rule of Zarian. This 'training' included attempting to rid Seto of his mercy, which the King had little to none of. The king was known to lash out irrationally at poor maids who spilled soapy water in the halls, cooks who boiled the vegetables too much, and now gardeners who dropped plants in the halls.

Taking one look at the soil strewn across the stone hall, the King glared expectantly at Seto. Last time Seto had defended a maid that had dropped a plate, he had received a hard slap across the face, was screamed at about the proper behavior of a royal prince, and sent to his bed chambers without food for the rest of the day. And he knew that it had been a light punishment. His father had come to apologize the next day, but also told his son never to disobey him again.

Guilt boiled acidly in his stomach as he thought of how he had yelled at the gardener. He knew it hadn't been his fault, and hated himself for being so weak to yell at the innocent man because his father hadn't given him a choice. He hadn't planned on actually giving out a punishment. However, his guilt grew thrice-fold when the King had decided to deal out his own sentence.

The frail old man had been given a year in the dungeons. He wondered if he should risk breaking him out of the dank cell. He knew that the gardener would not survive long down there, where the cold penetrated the very bone, and the rats and disease were abundant. He felt ashamed of himself for even considering leaving him there, yet he couldn't help a small voice in the back of his head wonder what his punishment would be for setting him free. He was torn and hating every second of it.

At that moment, a small knock sounded from the mahogany door of his bed chamber. He murmured a quiet invitation to enter, and the door opened with a barely audible creak. A small head of raven hair popped in. Seto smiled warmly at his younger brother.

"Hello, Mokuba." He sat on the edge of the fluffy mattress of his bed, and patted the spot next to him in invitation for his brother to join him.

The twelve-year-old prince happily bounded over next to Seto, and launched a bright smile filled with adoration at the taller brunette. Seto slightly shook his head. Even though he had changed so much over the last few years, even though he had become so much colder, his younger brother never lost his youthful innocence, and still held Seto in such high regard. A smile tugged at the tall brunette's lips.

Mokuba tilted his head. Something had seemed to be bothering his big brother for the last few hours. "What's wrong, Seto?"

The brunette prince looked down on the wide gray eyes focused on himself with their inquisitive curiosity. He gave a soft sigh, and a small smile. He didn't want to impose his burdens on the younger prince. He also knew that if Mokuba thought anything might be troubling him, he would be relentless until he knew what it was. He decided to be vague, as a compromise.

He hesitated. "Well, Mokuba, you see…I had a chance to help someone out today. But I didn't. And it cost them a lot. Much more than it would have cost me to stand up for them."

The younger brother's eyes regarded him solemnly. Seto often wondered if Mokuba would make a finer ruler than he. The raven-haired youth was compassionate, firm in his beliefs, and wiser beyond his years.

After a moment Mokuba spoke up. "I know Father puts you under a lot of pressure to fill his shoes. I know he does it because he believes you'll be a great king." He paused. "Big brother, I think you're the greatest person in the world. I know that part of that is because we're brothers. But you're a good, just person. You have a good sense of honor. I believe you'll know what is the right thing to do." Mokuba gave his famous grin that never ceased to cause the maids to swoon over how adorable he was.

Seto abruptly stood up and strode over to the door. Mokuba began to worry if maybe he had said the right thing or not. He hadn't wanted to offend him.

Sensing Mokuba's distress, Seto looked over his shoulder while standing in the doorway, and gave that rare smile of his. "Don't worry. You're right, little brother. I'm going to go help."

And with that, the prince headed off to the dungeons. He would prove to himself that he was not yet his father.

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Okay, this is the second prologue. I wrote this just to get a feel of how Seto is going to be in this story. He's a real good guy at heart, but with his dad trying to teach him to be more ruthless, it's going to show at first when he and Joey meet. Which will be soon! I'll get the next chapter up soon, okay?

Now please push that little purple button down there and review. It makes me write more, and faster. Okays, love to you all!


	3. Chapter 1

Wow, thank you all so much for all of your reviews. You are such wonderful people. I really enjoy reading them, they make me so happy! Anyhow, I really appreciate your patience with me, because I am truely the Lazy Scum of the Earth. Capatlized and everything. But seriously, there has been a load of stuff that's been going on lately, and I really do apologize. I plan on writing some more here really soon, and I already have the next chapter written and ready to be typed up. I'll have it up in a week or two. I love you guys!! n.n

**Summary**: AU. Joey is a prince who isn't very, well, princely. His father, King of Arvata, sends him away on a hunting trip to become more of a noble, but his party is attacked by robbers. Seto, prince of the neighboring country Zarian, which is on the brink of war, finds the fallen blonde and nurses him back to health. When Joey comes up with amnesia, can the two fall in love, or will politics and Joey's country come between them?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters. Except for Susan, who I made up.

**Warning:** This story will contain Seto and Joey getting together. If you do not like that, don't read anymore. You will just be sorely disappointed. Or you can give it a try, and find you just might change your mind. Choice is yours. But don't complain to me if you don't! n.n

**A Knight in Not-So-Shiny Armor**

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Deep honeyed eyes blearily blinked open, sleepily takin gin the sight of his own bed chambers. The seat smell of the blossoming morning glories drifted lazily in through the window, permeating the air. It was comforting.

The blonde prince sat up in bed. This most definitely was not the dungeons. Could it all have been a terrible dream? Would he not have to go hunting in the woods? He really hoped not. He was a gentle person, and the thought of killing an innocent creature for sport left him feeling sick. Maybe he wouldn't have to go. A wide, happy grin began to slowly creep across his face at the thought. He heart the heavy door of his room creak open. That would be Susan, his favorite maid, coming in to help him prepare his morning washing for him. He turned to brightly greet the elderly woman he had known for as long as he could remember.

The grin disappeared from his face in an instant. Her hair was still green.

_So it was not a dream after all_, he thought gloomily, flopping back into bed. If he was lucky, his father would have forgotten all about this absurd hunting idea.

Susan, however, would not have any of it, hobbling over to Joey's bed to tear away his precious warm bed covers. She knew from experience that it was the only guaranteed way to get him up, and keep him up. As predicted, the lean boy immediately jumped up as the cool morning air hit his skin.

As the blonde spluttered a list of profanities, the old maid pointed a long, knobby finger in the blonde's face, his amber eyes crossing slightly in an attempt for focus on the extended appendage. "Now you listen here, Joey," she admonished lightly. She was one of the few people in the court who called him by his preferred nickname. Hearing that nickname, he instantly knew that she was not angry with him. "Your father wants you to go on this trip, so you better not fuss. Serves you right for playing so many mean pranks on little old ladies like myself." The corners of her lips were tilted up.

Joey tried to pay attention, he really did. It was just so _hard_ so take her seriously when her hair was so…_green_. He struggled to keep a straight face. It lasted for about three seconds before he burst out laughing.

Susan frowned for a moment before laughing as well. Reminding him once more to prepare for his trip, she turned to leave, but not before giving him a good smack upside the head.

The blonde smiled to himself. This was his life. He was happy. Well, except for the fact that he now had to leave on this ridiculous hunting party. He sight and resigned himself to packing.

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The blonde stepped out of the castle and into the warm, sunny air. If nothing else, at least the weather was nice.

He made one last stop to the castle garden to admire the morning glories. This was one of his favorite places to be. His mother had planted those flowers before she became ill, and eventually passed away. They reminded him of her, and made him smile. He would miss waking up to the smell of the flowers in the morning.

With one last glance at the garden, he reluctantly headed out toward the stables. He could see his father waiting with the guards he had chosen to accompany him. Joey made sure to make a great show of dragging his feet every step of the way, adding a tortured groan here and there. This, however, was not to deter his father's jovial mood.

The King laughed rambunctiously, clapping Joey hard on the back. Not being anywhere near the size of his rotund father, the blonde stumbled forward a few steps from the force to keep from falling flat on his face. His father did not seem to take notice.

"Joseph!" he roared in delight. Joey heaved a great sigh, not bothering to remind him that he liked 'Joey' better. The King plowed on, "How I have waited for this day to come!" Joey barely managed to dodge another attack on his back.

"You've been waiting to torture me and send me to a premature death?" the blonde muttered sullenly.

The King threw his head back and guffawed. "Of course not, boy! I've been waiting for the day when you will finally grow up. The day when you set out on your own, and return home a man."

Joey looked over at the ten men that would be his accompanying guard. "I'm not exactly alone, though. I think we should probably call this whole thing off. I really don't think it is going to work out," he suggested somewhat hopefully. This only seemed to amuse his father more, who walked away laughing. Just like that. No good bye, no 'nice knowing you, son,' no nothing. He could very well die out there and his own father walks away laughing. How rude. Joey's shoulders slumped. It had been worth a shot.

He heard a chuckle and could just hear the cheeky grin laced in the voice behind him. "Don't tell me you expected anything else to happen?" the voice taunted.

Joey turned around to face another teen, his closest friend, allowing some measure of annoyance to grace his features. He gave a half-hearted glare. "Well, ex-_cuse_ me if I'm not as eager as you to throw myself into a forest full of man-eating beasts and dangerous bandits. I value my life, thank you," he droned sarcastically.

The other teen, clad in knight's armor, threw an arm around the princes shoulder, clearly enjoying his height advantage over the shorter prince. "Lighten up a little. First off, the whole point of a hunting party is to run into beasts to hunt. It becomes just a tad bit more difficult if you're running away from them. Secondly, there's no need to worry about robbers. I am the captain of your knights, after all. I'm not completely useless with a sword, you know."

Joey reluctantly relented, nodding to himself in agreement. Tristan was certainly the best. The knight's father had been captain before him, and had taught his son well. When the man had fallen suddenly ill, the job had been passed down to Tristan without objection.

Joey smirked at his friend. "I guess a gorilla with a pointy stick will have to do." It was a friendly insult he often threw the knight's way. He grinned, already knowing the usual comeback.

"What better than a gorilla to serve a monkey of a prince?" the taller brunette quipped with an innocent grin.

Joey growled playfully, and after punching the taller teen, attempted to make a regal exit toward the stables to fetch his horse.

His horse.

Joey groaned, staring up at the large creature. It wasn't that horses scared him. He really loved his mare, adored the chestnut fur and sparkling eyes. He would regularly come outside to brush her down, murmuring to her all the while. They were very intelligent, and easy to talk to. No, he wasn't scared of horses.

He just detested riding them. It had something to do with the fact that he couldn't stay on a horse for any drawn out period of time. He always fell of one side or the other.

He continued to stare up at the horse. The mare blinked back at him. How was he going to pull this off?

Tristan laughed behind him, knowing all too well of the prince's inability to stay in a saddle. "You wouldn't need a hand up, would you?"

Joey scowled at his friend's grin. "No," he declared defiantly, sticking his nose in the air in what he hoped was a princely fashion. He then proceeded to scramble up one side of the horse and immediately fall off the other. This only seemed to fuel Tristan's amusement.

After three more tried, he managed to maintain his valance, and his place atop his horse. He crowed a victorious laugh, choosing to ignore how Tristan jumped on his own horse in once languid motion.

He trotted forward on his mare, soon reaching the edge of the castle property. He could see the dark, weaving line that was the edge of the Thristarian Woods off in the distance, treetops silhouetted against the late morning sun. From here, it looked like a black ribbon lining the horizon. Though he couldn't see it from this far, he knew that Zarian lay beyond the border, hiding in wait. Waiting for an innocent prince like himself just asking to be kidnapped. He shuddered.

How did he manage to get himself into this mess?

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Like it? Love it? Bored with it? Well, that's okay because it's just the beginning! Stay with me folks, it'll get good, I promise! Review, review, review, because that's what motivates me to write and update faster!! And that's always a good thing, ya?

n.n So push that little purplish button down there. Lemmie know what you think!


	4. Chapter 2

Man oh man, I am so sorry about the wait!! I kinda got caught up in my new story, that I probably shouldn't have started, seeing as I have two others (including this one) to work on, but hey. It's fun. But thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews, and alerts, and favorites. You guys are the best! And I know they haven't met yet...but it's coming. I promise. I don't want to rush anything, because I'm trying really hard to make this a good story, and I don't want it to...well, I don't want it to suck. n.n I hope you all enjoy!

**Summary**: AU. Joey is a prince who isn't very, well, princely. His father, King of Arvata, sends him away on a hunting trip to become more of a noble, but his party is attacked by robbers. Seto, prince of the neighboring country Zarian, which is on the brink of war, finds the fallen blonde and nurses him back to health. When Joey comes up with amnesia, can the two fall in love, or will politics and Joey's country come between them?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters.

**A Knight in Not-So-Shiny Armor**

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Cold cobalt eyes peered through the dark corridors, scanning over the stone walls. He held a torch high above his head to light his path, casting eerie shadows over himself and his surroundings. The flickering flames caused those blue eyes to glitter like hard gemstones.

The soles of his boots send ghostly echoes bounding off the walls. It was so empty. The brunette shuddered. He walked briskly, wanting to spend as little time as possible down here. He didn't like it. Prince Seto did not care to frequent the dungeons. Today, however, he would make an exception. Today, he was on a mission to save someone.

Seto paused as he came to an intersection in the seemingly never-ending mazy of stone and iron bars. He had no way of knowing where the poor gardener had been locked away, and he had already searched through dozens of cells and corridors. Maybe he should just give up. _No_, he thought, mentally berating himself. It was his own fault the old man was down here to begin with.

Seto looked to his left, then to his right, then straight ahead. All corridors seemed to silently face into the engulfing blackness. He leaned up against a wall, resting the back of his head against the cool stone. He knew that if he continued to wander through randomly chosen corridors, he would eventually become lost. He had always been exceptionally brilliant, but his mental map of his location was becoming, after turning so many corners, rather fuzzy. He closed his eyes. This was quickly proving to be more tedious than he had first anticipated.

Doubts began to cloud his thoughts. After all, what good was he to the poor gardener if the prince was also lost? He groaned, feeling a headache creeping into the edges of his temples. He could imagine his father's voice whispering in his ear, telling him he was too sentimental, too weak. A cold voice growling that he would be destroyed by those around him if he did not rule with a ruthless fist.

The brunette shook his head fiercely. No. He did not want to be like that. A bubble of anxiety began to swell in his throat. He did not want to become hateful and so full of anger, did not want to be a biter shell like his father. His brother's voice swam to the surface of his memory. _You're a good, just person._ The anxiety seemed to evaporate almost instantly. He had to show Mokuba that he was right.

He straightened up and took another moment to ponder which direction he should take. In that brief moment of pause, he picked up on a soft metallic sound ghosting toward him in the night. It seemed to be a jingle of heavy keys. Set hurried in that direction, knowing that keys meant guards, who watched over the cells. He hoped he would find the man he was looking for.

After a few long strides, the tall prince stumbled on a loose pebble. He accidently dropped the torch, and the flame instantly extinguished. It was just as well; the light of his torch would have alerted the guards to his presence. Continuing on, he walked as silently as the pitch black around him.

A short time later, Seto notices a light ahead. The only parts of the dungeons that kept torches lit were near the cells. He spotted the guard up ahead making his rounds. He followed a safe distance behind, peering into the bars in search of a familiar face. A dozen cells later, cerulean eyes widened in shock and guilt.

There he was, the kindly gardener, sprawled across the damp, dirty floor. Though the elderly man's head remained bowed, Seto could see the formings of a bruise starting to form on his cheekbone. His heart lurched, knowing that all of this was his fault. The prince knelt at the lock separating the gardener and freedom. He had managed to devise a crude lock pick from an old pin, but he knew he would not be able to use it on this rusty old iron. The corrosion would snap it in two. He would have to steal the keys from the guard.

"My Prince? Seto, is that you?" Seto raised his gaze to meet the clear stare of the bruised man before him. He quickly lowered his eyes back to the lock. The guilt seemed on the verge of devouring him whole. How could the old man still sound so loyal to him?

"I'm going to get you out of here. This is all my doing," the young prince murmured, barely audible.

The elderly man smiled. Seto could hear it in his voice as he replied, "My dear boy, don't apologize for your father's pain or cruelty. He used to be a good man, before your mother died. I can see that honor he used to have in you. You're a good man, too."

The warmth in the gardener's voice lifted his spirits. "I'm going to get you out," he repeated, reassuring himself. Then he ran in the direction of where he had last seen the retreating back of the guard. He would steal those keys, and steal the freedom of the man who believed in Seto's humanity.

Seto squinted into the glaring light of the sun as the two exited the castle by way of a secret door the prince had found years before. The prince held onto the old man's elbow to ensure he would not stumble and fall as they hurried towards the stables.

As they reached the stable doors, Seto dug out a pouch of gold from an inner pocket of his cloak. He opened the gardener's palm, placed the money in his hand, and curled the fingers back over the old leather. The gardener met his stare with questioning eyes. Seto tried to smile, but it did not come quite right. "Go. Take this money. It will buy your freedom." The elderly man began to protest, but Seto cut him off. "Leave. At least for a week. By then, my father will have forgotten about punishing you. Just go for now." Seto hated and loved the pleading in his own voice. His father would punish him for showing any weakness, but at the same time, he couldn't help but notice how _human_ he sounded.

The hardener seemed conflicted. Seto knew the man had spent most of his life serving behind these walls. Long ago, his father had been a wonderful king, and all of the castlehands remembered how it had been. Perhaps that was the reason why they did not abandon their King in his cruelty. They wanted to believe that their good ruler would come back to them, or they hoped that his successor would have his previous good qualities. Seto hoped he would live up to their expectations.

The prince led the gardener over to a spare horse, helping him onto the back of the large creature. The gardener looked down. Seto could see the gratitude in his eyes, but more importantly, the faith in him. "I'll be back," the man promised, and Set knew he meant it. He nodded in return, before slapping the reins of the horse to get it running.

He felt himself smiling. He had done it. He had defied his father and his teachings. His elation was short-lived, however.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" Seto's heart froze at the icy voice emanating from behind his shoulder. The brunette turned to face his father, feet feeling like lead. There stood the King of Zarian, face hard in cold, calculating fury. Seto would have asked what his father what he was doing in the stables, but the hunting gear in his hands told him that he had just returned from a short trip through some nearby woods.

The King took a step forward, and Seto took one back to keep whatever distance he could. "I asked you a question. What do you think you are doing?" His voice was quiet, but venomous. The prince did not reply, opting to stare with angry, defiant eyes.

In the blink of an eye, his father was before him, and his cheek was red and throbbing. Seto's jaw dropped in open shock. His father may have used cruel words with him, but never before had he physically hurt him. He could see the regret and internal conflict in his father's eyes immediately, but he stepped quickly back toward the stable behind him, where his own mare was kept. He could see his father about to reach out and most likely apologize, but Seto was not about to have it.

He jumped onto his horse, bareback, and galloped out of the stables. He ran through the gate and off the castle property, not stopping until several minutes later when the castle seemed small in the distance. He looked around, wondering where he could go unnoticed. Before him, he could see the darkened edge of the woods. It was not a part of his country's land, and also known to be very dangerous.

Perfect.

Seto brought the horse back into a run, heading straight for the looming trees. He turned to look back just once, the large dark castle diminished to a smudge near the horizon.

_I'm so sorry, Mokuba._

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I know, I know. What utter _crap_. And when are the two gonnna meet?! Well, really soon. I've got a vauge outline for the next two chapters, so I will be sitting my lazy ass down soon to write it. Promise! Also, Seto's chapters tend to be more angsty than Joey's. But, honestly, Seto as a person is more angsty than Joey.

Anyways.

Please, review! It always makes my day. And it motivates me to get off said lazy ass. n.n


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